UNKNOWN ABYSSINIA
In Ethiopia, Sebastian Piatek found a new way of seeing — where architecture endures, but women in motion carry the narrative forward.
September 7, 2025
INTERVIEW
PHOTOGRAPHY Sebastian Piatek
INTERVIEW Melanie Meggs
Unknown Abyssinia unfolds as a study in visual reduction, where each photograph is stripped to its essential elements to explore the relationship between human presence, architectural form, and the structuring effects of light and shadow. Set in the Ethiopian cities of Harar and Dire Dawa, the series is unified by a recurring motif: women moving through spaces defined by weathered surfaces and geometric divisions of light. These figures are neither isolated portraits nor incidental passers-by; they are integral to the compositional fabric, anchoring the frame while engaging in a subtle dialogue with their surroundings. Color functions as a structural device rather than ornament. The result is a sequence of photographs in which architectural space and human movement are held in measured equilibrium, and where the smallest details carry as much visual and narrative significance as the subject itself. More than a documentary record, the work operates as a formal inquiry into how presence is articulated within an urban environment.
The photographer, Sebastian Piatek, was born in Poland, spent the majority of his life in Germany, and now works between India and Germany. His photographic practice began in the early years of mobile phone cameras, with intimate images of family and friends. Travel expanded his vision, particularly in India, where he gravitated toward the dense layering of street life. Over time, this maximalist approach gave way to a more pared-back vision. His first visit to Ethiopia marked a decisive point in this evolution, prompting a sustained focus on spatial clarity and compositional restraint.
Sebastian’s encounters with his subjects are unforced, allowing the images to carry a sense of continuity. The impression is given that life extends beyond the frame. The visual language is anchored in the dialogue between the saturated tones of clothing and the subdued, weathered surfaces of the built environment. Hijabs act as deliberate focal points, immediately orienting the viewer within the image. These color accents are deliberate, operating in tension with the tonal restraint of the surrounding architecture to create a balanced yet dynamic field. Each frame is composed with a marked resistance to excess, isolating a small number of visual elements so that their relationships register with clarity. This measured approach fosters a sense of visual calm, even within environments alive with movement. Figures are frequently cropped or caught mid-motion, lending the photographs the quality of excerpts from a continuous flow of life rather than self-contained scenes.
Architecture acts not as backdrop but as an active participant. Textured plaster, peeling paint, exposed stone, and shifting patterns of light and shadow shape the formal structure as decisively as the human figures themselves. The result is a continuous negotiation between permanence, embodied in the enduring walls, and transience, embodied in the passing figures. Recurrent compositional strategies — figures moving parallel to walls, lateral light defining shadows, color providing counterpoint — give the series cohesion, while subtle variations in gesture, fabric, and light invite sustained engagement. Grounded in observation, the work privileges the quiet continuity of lived experience over staged or embellished moments.
What began as a self-contained project has become the foundation for an ongoing exploration, one that Sebastian Piatek intends to continue on future visits to Africa. In the following conversation, Sebastian reflects on the making of Unknown Abyssinia, the evolution of his photographic language, and how his encounters with place continue to shape the direction of his work.
“Unknown Abyssinia feels less like a finished story and more like a first chapter. There are many threads that I hope to follow through which I would like to connect deeper to the beauty, the mystery and the spirit of Ethiopia. My first journey has left me with a lasting impression, but I feel that I barely just touched the surface and that there is so much waiting for me to explore. And returning to Ethiopia - and also exploring other parts of Africa - for me is about continuing that exploration in the sense of letting the work evolve naturally rather than trying to close any narrative neatly.”
IN CONVERSATION WITH
SEBASTIAN PIATEK
TPL: When you think back to the earliest photographs you made — those first experiments with a mobile phone camera — what do you see now that perhaps you didn’t recognize at the time? Were there already signs of the way you would later compose and respond to the world visually?
SEBASTIAN: When I look back at those first phone shots, I see that I was already chasing the same things I do now - small gestures, contrasts, and the beauty of the people and also the mundane. At the time I thought they were just casual snapshots, but they reveal an instinct for framing and storytelling that I didn’t yet have the words or tools for. Also, I was not aware of the factor time that adds extra magic to photographs after many years have passed or even decades.
TPL: Your life has taken you from Poland to Germany, and now you work between India and Germany. How have these shifts in geography, culture, and pace of life influenced not only what you choose to photograph, but the very way you look at and interpret the world around you?
SEBASTIAN: Moving between Germany and India and also travelling other parts of the world has taught me that the street in a broad sense is never just a backdrop - it’s a mirror of culture, rhythm, and identity. In Germany or generally in Europe, I am drawn to structure, clean surfaces and backgrounds and the order of urban life. In India for example, the streets are the opposite: vibrant, chaotic, overflowing with stories and sometimes harder to frame than one can imagine.
Those contrasts changed not only what I photograph, but how I see. I’ve learned to be more open, more patient, and more curious. Shifting cultures has made me realize there isn’t one ‘truth’ in an image - there are layers, shaped by context, pace, and perspective. For me, photography has become less about chasing the ‘perfect shot’ and more about listening to what each place wants to reveal.
TPL: Was there a particular photograph, encounter, or moment that transformed photography from something casual into a deliberate practice — a point where you realized it could be the medium through which you express and investigate your way of seeing?
SEBASTIAN: Photography became serious for me not in a single moment, but through a combination of experiences - and one important influence: some time ago, a teacher of mine - not in photography, but in life - suggested to me to buy a reasonably good camera and to seriously work with it. He was the first person who believed in me, and he managed to convince me that I could become a good photographer.
From that point, every photograph - every fleeting gesture, street encounter, or unexpected detail - became a way to explore how I see the world. That encouragement transformed photography from casual snapshots into a deliberate, personal practice. It became not just a medium, but my language for noticing and expressing life’s subtle stories.
TPL: Ethiopia marked a turning point in your practice. Can you describe your first impressions of Harar and Dire Dawa — not only visually, but in terms of atmosphere, pace, and light — and how those impressions began to influence the way you worked from the outset?
SEBASTIAN: Arriving in Harar and Dire Dawa felt like stepping into a world that somehow, I am deeply familiar with (because I am a quite experienced traveler and also have been to Africa before) and yet at the same time is the strangest, most exotic and intense experience I ever had. The streets were alive with color, visual richness, texture, patterns, incredibly beautiful people and also a quiet undercurrent - moments of stillness and mystery tucked between the intensity. The light was incredible: warm, layered, and always shifting, almost too much to take in all at once.
Those first impressions immediately changed how I worked. I learned to slow down, to observe rather than chase, and to let the places reveal its stories on its own terms. Composition became about capturing both motion and pause, energy and subtlety, and finding the poetry that exists in the ordinary moment of everyday Ethiopian life. Ethiopia taught me to be present again - to let the place guide my eye rather than imposing my vision on it.
TPL: The transition towards minimalism emerged naturally while you were photographing in Ethiopia. Was this an instinctive change in how you framed scenes, or did it crystallize later during editing, when you could see the work as a body and recognize the shift in direction?
SEBASTIAN: The move toward minimalism was both instinctive and reflective. On the streets of Ethiopia, I found myself naturally drawn to simplicity - a beautiful simple background, a gesture, a line, or a patch of light, all of that could hold an entire story on its own. The beauty of the environment itself seemed to invite restraint.
Later, when I reviewed the work in editing, the pattern became clear. I could see how my eye had shifted, how I was letting spaces breathe and giving singular elements the attention they deserved. Minimalism didn’t feel imposed; it was an organic evolution - a way to let the essence of a scene speak without distraction.
TPL: Throughout Unknown Abyssinia, the women create a thread of continuity, carrying both a cultural and visual presence. What did they come to represent for you during your time in Ethiopia? How conscious were you of this during the process, and what role do you feel they play in telling the story of these places?
SEBASTIAN: The women I photographed in Ethiopia quickly became more than subjects - they were anchors in the fabric of daily life, a thread connecting moments, places, and stories. Their presence carried both a cultural and visual weight: the way they moved, worked, or simply existed in the streets conveyed resilience, grace and a lived history that words could never fully capture.
At the time, I wasn’t fully conscious of the role they would play in the narrative. I was following instinct, drawn to the gestures, colors, and interactions that spoke to me. It was only later, seeing the body of work come together, that I understood how central they were - a continuity that helps viewers navigate the pace, emotion, and humanity of these places.
The women became a lens through which the streets and the culture could be felt, not just seen.
TPL: Working in a culture and environment that was new to you brings questions of ethics and representation. How did you navigate photographing people in Ethiopia in a way that ensured the work remained rooted in respect, while also allowing for your own creative interpretation?
SEBASTIAN: Photographing in a new culture and actually in any culture always comes with responsibility. In Ethiopia, I approached people with curiosity first, camera second. It was important for me to observe, engage, and understand the nuances of daily life in the streets of Harar and Dire Dawa before pressing the shutter. Respect meant giving space, acknowledging presence, and never forcing a moment.
At the same time, I wanted my work to reflect how I see the place, so naturally balancing respect and interpretation became a practice in attentiveness: listening to the place, honoring the people, and letting my vision emerge from that awareness rather than imposing it. The result is work that feels both authentic and personal, rooted in observation and care.
TPL: How does working in an unfamiliar location shape your way of seeing when you return to familiar environments? Do you find that the perspective you gain in one place reframes how you photograph elsewhere?
SEBASTIAN: Working in an unfamiliar place changes the way you notice everything, even when you return to a familiar environment. In Ethiopia, I learned to slow down, to observe more, to look deeper or let’s say to look for something else that I might have overlooked before. I feel that at least a part of that attentiveness follows me everywhere now.
Returning to familiar streets, I see them with fresh eyes, and I notice things that were previously invisible to me. What I can say is that each new environment acts like a lens, subtly reframing how I interpret and photograph the world, making even the ordinary feel full of potential. But at the same time coming from such a photogenic, aesthetically rich and “exotic” place like Ethiopia my inspiration to photograph for example in German streets is exhausted much quicker than before.
TPL: Which photographers, artists, or even non-visual creators have had the most enduring influence on your way of seeing, and in what ways do their works resonate within your own practice?
SEBASTIAN: My influences come from a wide mix of photographers - there are so many whose work I return to again and again with a sense of disbelief and admiration, but I will name just three of them here. Raghu Rai, for instance, has been a huge inspiration. I own several of his photobooks and have spent a lot of time studying them. For years I’ve felt a strong connection to India, and much of my early inspiration came from Indian photographers. And of course, Alex Webb remains one of my all-time favorites - his use of color and layered compositions never stops teaching me something new. More recently, I’ve been reconnecting with my Polish roots and was thrilled to discover the work of Zbyszko Siemaszko, whose images I deeply admire.
What resonates in my practice is less about imitating style and more about absorbing a way of seeing. About Raghu Rai, I admire the patience to let a scene unfold and the ability to frame chaos into something poetic. From Alex Webb, I can learn to embrace complexity - layering color, shadow, subject and background in incredible ways. And with Siemaszko’s work, I’m drawn to how he captured everyday life with such clarity and atmosphere, reminding me that a photograph can be both documentary and deeply lyrical.
TPL: What is currently in your photography bag? And beyond gear, is there a location or photographic subject still high on your Wishlist — somewhere you feel would challenge or expand your practice?
SEBASTIAN: Since the beginning of 2021 I have been photographing only with the Fuji X100V. Besides that, I have two batteries and a lens hood, that’s all :)
There are many places I dream of photographing, but what excites me most are countries that challenge my perception and patience. Ethiopia, for example, made me feel as alive as I have in a long time. The country is both visually stunning and inspiring yet traveling and photographing there was challenging. That combination - working under pressure while staying fully attentive - brought out a new way of seeing for me. For that reason, I’m drawn to return to Ethiopia and explore other African countries as well.
For me, it’s not just about ticking off a destination; it’s about finding spaces that push me to slow down, truly observe, and respond honestly. Those are the environments that expand my practice, revealing new stories and perspectives I might never encounter in familiar surroundings.
TPL: Where do you see your work — and yourself as a photographer — in two or three years’ time?
SEBASTIAN: In two or three years, I hope my work continues to grow in depth and nuance. I want to explore new countries and cultures, but also revisit familiar ones with fresh eyes, noticing details I might have missed before. For myself as a photographer, I hope to become even more attuned to the visual opportunities in front of me and to use them in the most expressive way possible. I also see myself sharing this passion through photography workshops, traveling with others, and guiding them to discover beautiful locations and capture their own images. It has always been a joy for me to show people something extraordinary, and I want to help others see and photograph the world with curiosity and care.
TPL: And when you are not travelling, or pressing the shutter on your camera, what else may we find Sebastian enjoying?
SEBASTIAN: When I’m not traveling or pressing the shutter, much of my time is still connected to photography. I love to look at the work of well-known photographers and also to discover new photographers and immerse myself in their work. Beyond that, I enjoy reconnecting with my Polish roots by watching old Polish films and series, which always feel like a window into another time and place. I also love going for walks, keeping in touch with friends and family, and meeting new people wherever my travels take me. These moments outside of photography help me stay curious, grounded, and inspired for the work (and pleasure) I return to behind the camera.
In Unknown Abyssinia, Sebastian Piatek has found not only a subject, but a way forward. His photographs speak quietly yet with precision, offering the viewer a way to inhabit the spaces he has walked. For Sebastian, photography is not a matter of arriving at answers, but of remaining present to the questions that emerge when one moves slowly, looks closely, and allows the world to reveal itself in fragments. Ethiopia was a turning point for Sebastian — but as he prepares for the journeys ahead, it is clear that the path remains open, the work unfinished, and the vision still evolving.
